


Breaking the Law

by paranormalcy



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Anarchy, Couch Sex, Creampie, F/M, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Smut, Vague Exhibitionism, Wall Sex, police chases
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 13:15:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16661719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranormalcy/pseuds/paranormalcy
Summary: After helping Wrench with a distraction while he carries out his usual brand of mayhem, you find yourselves trapped in his garage hiding from the cops, and maybe a little too amped up on adrenaline.





	Breaking the Law

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first complete smut fic I've written in over a year. Hopefully I'm not too rusty, smut writing is like riding a bike, right? 
> 
> This was more than slightly inspired by the Moscow Gambit DLC during the 'Meet Wrench' part where Marcus has to create a distraction while Wrench makes a bomb.

"It'll be eaaasy," he tells you, his pale tattooed hands firmly gripping your wrists, "just cause a distraction for me?" 

You feel your shoulders relax, a sigh falling from your lips, "alright, just be fast-"

"I always am," he tells you with double carets. He hops the fence, your gaze firmly locked on him as he darts across the yard. You watch as he ducks behind a building and out of your line of sight. You wait, watching for as long as you feel able before darting off to create the requested distraction. 

~

Wrench takes entirely too long to answer his goddamn phone. The one time  _ you  _ need  _ him  _ and he's what? Taking a shit? "Is the world ending?" 

"Tell me you're fucking done Wrench, I have the fucking Bratva on me and I can hear sirens-"

"Neeaaarly," he sings. There's a sound in the background- flames maybe? You swerve hard, almost losing control of the bike as an ear splitting explosion sounds through your headset.

"Fuckingfuck!" You correct your course, swerving back out of incoming traffic, "Wrench?!"

There's a moan, almost as loud as the explosion, followed by a distracted "yeah?" 

"Stop jerking off and get to your garage," you blurt, "make sure the back shutter is open for me when you get there because I'll be coming in hot-"

He sighs, and in that same distracted, almost dreamy, voice says "you're always hot."

"Backdoor, Wrench!" You narrowly dodge a spray of bullets, swerving the bike back into the oncoming traffic in the hope that it'll slow down your pursuers. 

"Is that a promise?" he asks with a chuckle. You'd roll your eyes if you weren't so focused on  _ not dying _ .

"We'll see."

~

You can hear sirens in the distance getting closer. You just hope you have enough time. Swinging the bike into the alley behind Wrench's garage, you drive straight into the building. Wrench closes the shutter behind you and hurriedly starts pushing you off the bike.

He opens the shutter on the side of the garage floor, a quick command of "hide" thrown your way. You duck out of view, peering over the top of a server to watch him hack the bike's ctOS mainframe. It sputters to life and lurches forward, the nitro boost he'd built in bursting into green flame as it launches itself into the traffic. There's a sound of metal on metal screeching as a truck collides with the bike, sending it flying into the air in a mangled lump. You flinch as shrapnel breaks off and scatters mid-air. The shutter clatters back closed and Wrench rushes back over to your side.

"Office," he starts pushing you towards the junker car and you go willingly as he leads you. He goes first, climbing his way up onto the catwalk above. You hop onto the roof of the car and reach for his hand, letting him help you up and over the railing. 

He half drags you into his office- it's small and cluttered. Decorated with a sofa, mini fridge, and a mattress, along with a desk and a gaming rig. The trash is overflowing, there's a small cluster of empty beer bottles and soda cans on the desk, and a bong lying on the floor by the mattress along with a lighter. He's definitely not got the cleanest place you've seen but Wrench has never been one for a clean living environment.

"Sit," Wrench says, "we're gonna have to wait 'em out." He moves off to peer out the boarded up window as the sirens finally come to a stop. Outside. "They usually search the area in an attempt to not be totally inept so they might check the garage, they never notice the office though so if we stay quiet we'll be fuckin'  _ peachy _ ."

You nod and fall onto the sofa, only half taking in what he's been saying - you feel juiced, like your entire body is running on pure adrenaline. This is the first chance you've had to stop and take a breath for the past hour and the first thing you notice is- "I know you're an adrenaline junkie but that's just ridiculous."

Question marks as Wrench turns to look at you, then exclamation points as he realizes where you're looking. He glances down at himself. Down at his crotch. At the very obvious erection straining to escape his jeans.

He looks back up at you, reactions cycling on his mask. Like he's trying to figure out the right thing to say. 

A heart beat passes.

It feels like your eyes are glazed over. Your heart is racing, pulse pounding in your throat. "Come here."

Another heart beat. 

"I have a better idea." He reaches out for your hand. 

You reach for him and let him pull you off the sofa, backing you up against the wall by the window. His hands move to grip your hips and you can feel his gaze on you even through his mask. 

Your fingers go for his jeans, a hot breath falling from your lips. Now you're starting to get hot and bothered. A smirk forms on your lips, "wanna fuck in front of the cops?" 

A sharp tug on his waistband draws a grunt out of him. The button pops open and you slowly draw down the zipper, relishing in his desperate noises. "I want- wanna bend you over, fuck you where they could see us."

" _ Hot _ ," your breath dances across his flushed neck and you could swear you feel his hips jerk against you.

His fingers fumble to unfasten your jeans, a string of curses falling from his lips as he struggles with the button. You nudge his hands out of the way and pop it open, pushing your jeans down your thighs, he licks his lips as he watches your underwear follow. 

Your hands move, ever restless, to his hips. To his open jeans and exposed boxers. You roughly shove his jeans down. Licking your lips as you hook your fingers into his boxers, teasing him for a moment before pulling them down, too. His cock springs free of it's confines, his pale skin flushed with desire, pre-cum already leaking from the tip. 

Your fingers wrap around him, the temptation too strong to resist. Your thumb catches the pre-cum on the up stroke, gathering it up as you move. You pull away again, fighting the urge to rub his frenum piercing with your thumb until he explodes. A whine of want slips from under Wrench's mask - clearly he wouldn't be against it. No. You want him to fuck you while the cops are still searching for you, and if you wait much longer they probably won't be. He watches with wide circle eyes as you bring your hand up, your tongue darts out to lick the pre-cum off your thumb and a groan falls from Wrench's covered lips.

"Where do you want me?" you ask him, voice dripping with lust now, "here? Or do you want me pressed against the window boards?"

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing, before answering, "against the window."

A smirk forms on your lips once more as you turn away from him, placing your hands firm on either side of the window, your back arched in that way you know drives him crazy.

"You need me to grab a condom?" he asks, hands settling on your hips like he can't keep himself from touching you despite you not yet having answered the question. 

"Contraceptive implants last three years, Wrench," you breathe, "I'm good."

"Yeaah, I know," you can hear his excited smile, "just  _ reaaally  _ like hearing you say that I can fuck you like this for _ three years _ ."

You lick your lips, wiggling your hips, "c'mon then, time's wasting-" your breath catches as you feel his pierced cock move into place between your folds, sliding back and forth as Wrench's hips buck, his hands landing on top of yours. 

"Oh-  _ fuuuck _ , I will  _ never  _ get used to that-" he whimpers. A moment passes then you jerk your hips back, meeting his. The noise it draws from him will be seared into your brain for the rest of your life - something somewhere between a gasp and a choked off cry of pleasure. 

Your breath catches as he pushes inside, his fingers lacing with yours. His head lowers onto your shoulder, spikes grazing your neck. "Fuck- You feel so  _ fucking  _ good."

You can't stop your lips from twitching up at the compliment. Shifting slightly forward in your position to give him a better view of your ass while also allowing you a view of the cops through the gap in the boards. They're still searching for you- checking the alleys now.

"Try to stay quiet," he tells you, "if they hear screaming they might investigate."

You nod, watching as one of the cops checks inside a dumpster for you with obviously no success. 

Wrench pulls his hips back and slams them forward. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing out  obnoxiously loud in the silence. His hands move to grip your hips, his own settling into a fast pace that leaves you gasping, legs shaking under you.

Your eyes blur now as they try to focus on the cops outside- they're examining the bike again. A second squad car coming to a stop near the first. Clearly they're not ready to let you go just yet.

A moan vibrates in your throat as Wrench's fingers find your clit. He shushes you, chuckling as he does so. 

"We're playing the quiet game right now," he whispers, spiked face pressed against your neck, "and trust me- I hate it as much as you do, I just don't want you to go out getting shot by a cop mid-mindblowing fuck."

"Dying with your cock in me doesn't sound too bad," you breathe. Struggling to concentrate on the movement of the cops outside over the feeling of Wrench moving inside you, his hands on your hips, his spikes in your neck- that building feeling in the pit of your stomach and the way your legs are trembling.

He hums in agreement, then says, "at least we'd go out together- I'd rather die drowning in your pussy or cumming so hard my brain  _ literally explodes  _ but if you wanna go for it then start screaming, you know I won't stop you; exhibitionism is  _ hot _ ."

You swallow the lump in your throat - the fear of being found - and let out a loud moan. A test moan. Your entire focus trained on the cops outside in that moment, watching them like a hawk to see if they even flinch in your direction. They just keep examining the bike, filling in the new arrivals on the situation.

A second moan slips from your lips without you telling it to. Without you allowing it. Your eyes fluttering closed with the hint of a realization that the pleasure that was building is starting to peak.

"Wrench- I-" your breath catches, a groan slipping out. Your hands move to grab at Wrench's, holding onto him as he presses you forward against the boards. You're grateful they're not as splinter filled as they look as your cheek hits wood.

You're only vaguely aware of the thudding noise your bodies are creating against the boards, enough that when Wrench says "I think they can hear us" it isn't entirely a surprise. It's his tone that catches you off guard; he's surprisingly calm for the sentence that just came out of his mouth. 

You try to lift your head, to look out of the window at what he can see, but he starts picking up his pace- the sounds filling the room reaching a whole new level of obscene between the sound of Wrench pounding you into the wooden boards, slapping as skin hits skin, the slick thrusting, and his grunts in your ear, something inside you breaks and you feel your self-control go completely out the window. Whatever was holding back the stream of pleasured cries and expletives has gone.

"Fuck- Wrench- I'm gonna-" You feel the first wave hit you and you moan, letting Wrench work you over as your eyes close and you give into the pleasure. 

You don't know how long passes, how many seconds- how many minutes. God it feels like minutes. It feels like it never ends. Like waves after waves of orgasmic bliss just keep washing over you, slowly drowning you, slowly knocking the air out of you. 

Your whole world becomes Wrench; the feeling of him moving inside you, his fingers against your clit, the sounds he's making through the voice changer pressed against your neck, the way his spikes dig into your skin, the way he can make even the painful parts feel so good.

Then suddenly you're being pulled backwards.

"Shhh- shhh-! " he clamps a hand over your mouth, dragging you onto the sofa. You land on his lap with noise of muffled surprise. His mouth is pressed against your ear again. "They're coming in the garage."

You can feel your heart pounding in your throat, eyes wide and wild as you stare towards the closed office door. Your pulse leaps. The sound of the shutter opening downstairs echoing through the silence.

As the moments tick by - the cops moving into the garage, poking around in Wrench's stuff - it becomes clear they're planning on searching the entire goddamn garage. You shift in Wrench's grasp, wriggling on his lap. 

A breath hisses out from between clenched teeth, his grip tightening around your waist. A whisper in your ear, "please-"

That's when you realize he's still hard inside you, his stomach muscles trembling against your lower back as he fights to restrain himself. "You wanna cum?" You bite your lip as you whisper the question. Eyes still firmly locked on the door knowing any moment they could notice it, that any moment you could both be getting hauled out in handcuffs.

All he can do is nod, biting back sounds of pleasure as you begin rocking your hips in his lap. You make sure to move in small movements, slow circles and gentle grinding, to prevent the sofa from being jostled too hard. 

His fingers dig into your skin, spikes pressing into your shoulder. His whispered pleas, the gasping breaths, your name slipping from his lips on every sigh.

There are voices downstairs- they can't understand where the noise was coming from.

"I'm gonna cum," it's a sudden, panicked whisper against your ear, his hands moving restlessly against your skin, gripping at everything they can touch. His body jerks, hips jutting up, his head falling back against the sofa. He pulses inside you then the first of several warm, sticky spurts releases into your core. He wheezes slightly, whispering your name repeatedly as he fills you. 

He sags back against the sofa, his body relaxing as his climax ends. You smooth your hands down his jean clad thighs, sighing happily as his hands pull you back against his chest. His arms wrapping around your waist as he starts to come down. 

Your ears pick up the conversation downstairs over Wrench's breathing, "alright- I'm calling it, whatever that noise was it wasn't coming from in here." You turn to look at Wrench over your shoulder, at the surprised wide eyes on his display. The two of you sit in silence, listening until the shutter closes again. 

"Do you think they actually left or do you think they're faking us out?" Wrench whispers.

You shrug, "want me to look outside?"

He starts to nod but then tightens his grip, "actually- no, stay. This is really fucking nice, it's like you're giving my dick a warm wet hug." You let out a breathy laugh. Wrench presses his spiked mouth against your neck, squeezing you tightly.  

Your ears pick up the sound of car doors outside- the cops must actually be leaving. 

"I can't believe you managed to stay quiet," you admit, "I honestly thought we'd end up getting dragged out of here in handcuffs, half naked, your cum dripping outta me all over the backseat of a squad car-"

"That sounds hot as fuck," he blurts, "lemme up I'm gonna go get their attention," he starts wriggling beneath you, struggling to find a way to stand and keep you in the same position you're currently in. "I- fuck- this is really nice."

You laugh and go to stand but his hands grab your waist and pull you back again. "You said you wanted to get up."

"Changed my mind, we can get arrested and drip bodily fluids in cop cars next time," he sighs, calloused hands firmly holding you in place. "Just- can we just stay like this?"

"You sap," you smile. 

"Shh, don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to keep up." You know this moment won't last, that when he falls asleep you'll clean yourself up and sneak out. For right now, though, you can stay. 

Maybe one day you'll gather up the courage to stay for real, the courage to embrace living this life daily instead of it being a bi-weekly whirlwind that sneaks up on you and leaves you spinning until your next encounter. 

But until then, and for right now, Wrench's breaths against your back and his arms around your waist are enough.


End file.
